


Two of Hearts Ace of Spades

by Ceata88



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Sad Ending, goes from the night before the big fight to the day of, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 05:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15856830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceata88/pseuds/Ceata88
Summary: Joshua Faraday can't sleep. This isn’t unusual, but with the final battle beginning at the crack of dawn he can’t afford this insomnia right now. Not long after going outside to clear his mind, he discovers that Vasquez has the same problem.With nothing else to do the pair of them talk, steadily slipping into territory Faraday swore he’d never go to. At least it all ends on a good note, but both of them are concerned the fight tomorrow might rip it all away.





	1. Your Cards is the Two of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Big Bang timeeeee
> 
> This event gave me a reason to write this fic that had been on my mind for a long time. Hope you guys like it or... Well, you see the tags, my apologies. 
> 
> Check out the other fics in this collection cause there's a ton of good stuff! 
> 
> Art added! Done by the lovely [whereverigobillygoes](https://whereverigobillygoes.tumblr.com/)

    _“Those nightmares keep you up often, Mr. Faraday?”_  
  
    Faraday blew a cloud of smoke into the night air as those words buzzed around in his head. Damn that woman. It wasn’t often Faraday found himself out played, but it was becoming more and more obvious she’d played these kinds of games before. He almost wished he’d gotten the chance to meet her husband just to see what sort of man she settled down with.  
  
    Then again, perhaps losing him was why she was like this in the first place.  
  
    But she was right, not that Faraday would ever admit it. Another dream full of gunpowder and blood. He could still taste it in the back of his throat, not that the cigar was helping.  
  
    He’d tried to go back to sleep. The big fight was tomorrow morning, after all. But when all he could do was roll back and forth on his bed, he wandered out onto the upper deck of the Saloon instead.  
  
    By now the night was quiet, such a contrast to how it was earlier. Just the other night it seemed like the entire town was out partying. All it took was one message from Red Harvest to shift the mood completely.  
  
    Not to mention they were down one member, possibly two with the state Billy was left in before bed. Sam offered them all the same opportunity, but no one took it.  
  
    Not that Faraday hadn’t considered it, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak up. Couldn’t bring himself to leave either. What else would he do?  
  
    “You’re up late, güero.”  
  
    The tone of voice was enough to make him bite on the end of his cigar. He turned to see Vasquez lingering close to the doorway. It was hard to read his expression in the dark. Only the moon offered any light at this point.  
  
    “Could say the same to you.” Faraday stood up, leaning away from the railing. “What has you joining me out here on this fine night?”  
  
    Vasquez just snorted and stepped over. He pulled out his own cigar, not lighting it. He rarely did. He just chewed on the end of it as he gazed around the town.  
  
    “The same reason as you.” He shrugged. “Can’t sleep?”  
  
    “Nah, my bed’s really uncomfortable.” Faraday tried to pop his back to emphasis the point, but it didn’t work. “Yours isn’t any softer, is it?”  
  
    It took him a second to register what he just said. Roughly the same moment he noticed Vasquez’s gaze. In the end, the vaquero just smirked and turned away.  
  
    “I do not think so. Perhaps we could trade and find out.”  
  
    “Would say that wouldn’t work, since Goody snores but...”  
  
    Faraday didn’t finish the comment. Vasquez didn’t either.  
  
   _“With one less of us, it’s going to be a little bit darker.”_ Jack’s words rang in his head. One less already felt this bad and terrifying. How much worse was it going to feel tomorrow. There’s no way they’d all make it out of this. Maybe none of them would. That thought made his chest go tight and he wasn’t sure why.

  
  
    “Do you think Billy will run?” Vasquez broke him out of his thoughts.  
  
    “How should I know? I’ve barely talked to him.” Faraday found himself leaning on the rail again. “Goody told us Billy went wherever he did, but maybe that’s not as true as I thought.”  
  
    He’d tried to imagine the argument that came before that decision once or twice, but in the end it was none of his business. If Billy wasn’t out cold maybe he’d ask him, but there wasn’t much time.  
  
    “What about you?” Vasquez asked.  
  
    “What about me?”  
  
    “Are you going to run?”  
  
    “If I was going to do that don’t you think I already would have?”  
  
    Vasquez shrugged. “You did not give much reason for staying.”  
  
    “Do I have to?” Faraday shifted. “Maybe I like playing the hero.”  
  
    The vaquero snorted. “You are bad at lying at this time of night.”  
  
    “I wasn’t trying very hard.” Faraday had run through most of his cigar by now. He put it out against the wood but then just put it back in his mouth, gnawing on the end of it. He watched as Vasquez kept doing the same. “How come you never smoke those? Just chew on the end of them like a rabbit.”  
  
    Vasquez took it out of his mouth. “I rarely like smoking.”  
  
    “Why not? Does wonders for your nerves.”  
  
    “I did not know uncomfortable beds could make you nervous.”  
  
    Faraday flinched. Damn. How were all these questions getting turned around on him? This wasn’t right. He was supposed to be able to read his opponents, catch their bluff, use their cards against them.  
  
    Then again, maybe this is why he usually wound up cheating.  
  
    “Don’t act like you’re not.” Faraday gestured at the street. “Who knows what this is going to look like tomorrow. Nothing but gunfire, and smoke, and blood and...” His memory tried to drag something up. Faraday pushed it back.  
  
    “Why are you out here, Joshua?”  
  
    “Okay,” Faraday pointed at him and took a step back. “You calling me by my first name just sounds weird. Don’t do that.”  
  
    “Fine, güero, but I would like an honest answer for once.”  
  
    He snorted and rolled his eyes, biting harder on the cigar. “What for? Night before a fight is a strange time to talk about feelings.”  
  
    “Would you suggest a better time?”  
  
    Faraday took the cigar out and opened his mouth, only to close it again. No, he didn’t have a suggestion, but no way was he going to talk about this. “I’d say over drinks, but I think Billy drank the last of it.”  
  
    Vasquez seemed to ignore the comment. “Nightmares?”  
  
    He flinched again. “Is that strange? Pretty sure everyone in our group has them.”  
  
    Vasquez shrugged, sliding a bit closer but keeping his gaze fixed on the building across the street. “I do.”  
  
    Faraday’s chewing slowed down. “That why you’re up?”  
  
    “Sí.”  
  
    He considered asking what they were about, but that wouldn’t be fair. No way he’d talk about his own, after all.  
  
    Besides, who wanted to talk about depressing stuff the night before their potential deaths?  
  
    “So what’s your story, anyway?” Faraday turned around to lean his back against the rail instead. “Why did an outlaw agree to save a town?”  
  
    Vasquez shrugged. “You kill one man, more come after you. You kill them too and your bounty goes up. More men come after you. It continues.”  
  
    “Sounds like a hell of a cycle.” Faraday pulled the bit of cigar out of his mouth and finally flicked it toward the ground below. He smiled as it plunked on the ground, but that dropped when he saw the dirty look Vasquez was giving him. “What?”  
  
    The outlaw shook his head and glanced away.  
  
    “You’ve been running a while now, right?” Faraday tilted his head. “So why suddenly help people you don’t know?”  
  
    “It is safe.”  
  
    He cackled at that. “Safe? Fighting an army is considered safe?”  
  
    “I do not have to run for the first time in a while.” Vasquez tapped Faraday on the end of the nose with his cigar. “Not from the bounty hunter, not from a sheriff, not from a town. It is safe.”  
  
    “Eh, I guess so, but why kill the first one?”  
  
    He shrugged. “He had it coming.”  
  
    “You’ve got to be more specific here, Vas.”  
  
    The look the vaquero gave him didn’t seem to be annoyed as he said, “Do not call me that. And why should I?”  
  
    “You said there was no better time to talk about our feelings. And we’re not sleeping, it seems.”  
  
    Vasquez shook his head. He tucked the cigar away and tilted his head toward the door. “Let’s go for a walk.”  
  
    Faraday blinked, not sure if the man was serious, but there he went. He lingered for a moment, wondering if he should even follow. What would be the point? It was dark out. They should get some sleep.  
  
    But they weren’t sleeping, and he had nothing else to do.  
  
    Faraday followed after, at first quick but slowing down when he remembered that other people were asleep. Vasquez was waiting downstairs, gaze fixed out the window. The shadows suited him, somehow, but not in the same way the sun did.  
  
    What was Faraday thinking?  
  
    When he caught up, Vasquez headed outside without a word. Faraday wasn’t comfortable with the silence, but wasn’t sure what to say either. He pulled out his cards, shuffling them in his hands while he thought of a new topic.  
  
    He didn’t have one.  
  
    “Odd time for a walk,” he finally offered as he glanced around the street from this angle. It was unbelievably dark and the half moon was only giving them so much light. If his eyes weren’t so adjusted he surely would have walked into something.  
  
    Vasquez’s voice was quiet when he replied. “Standing still on that balcony would...” The man tilted his head, clearly searching for a word.  
  
    “Make you go crazy?” Faraday offered.  
  
    “Something like that.”  
  
    He managed a smile and picked up his steps to walk next to him. “A shame we can’t talk over drinks.”  
  
    Vasquez shook his head. “As you said, I believe Billy drank the last of what the Saloon had.” He chuckled. “Looks as though you were have to find a new way to cope, güero.”  
  
    “I could steal some from the traps.”  
  
    “No.” Vasquez gave him a nudge. Faraday nudged back, the pair of them laughing.  
  
    Something about it felt calm, peaceful, which was almost strange knowing what was coming. Faraday stared at the night sky, almost wishing the sun would never arrive.  
  
    “You never told me why you’re staying.”  
  
    Faraday glanced over to notice Vasquez was staring at him. He pretended it didn’t make him nervous as he flipped a few cards around between his fingers. “Still not buying the hero story?”  
  
    “No.”  
  
    Faraday ran through a list of excuses, although he knew none of them were believable. It was odd, usually he could bluff his way out of anything but something about the dark hours of the morning made it tricky.  
  
    “Why leave?” he said. “I don’t have anywhere to go either. Besides, I’m still in debt for that horse. Might as well try and do something decent with my life for once.”  
  
    He didn’t consider the weight of that comment until it left his mouth. The cards in his hand froze as his steps slowed down. Vasquez wasn’t saying anything, still staring at him, matching his pace.  
  
    Faraday walked faster to avoid eye contact. “I didn’t say that.”  
  
    “You did.”  
  
    “Well let’s pretend I didn’t.”  
  
    He took Vasquez’s silence as a form of agreement. They were quickly getting to the end of the road where the ruined church loomed above them.  
  
    “I feel the same.”  
  
    He was startled by the comment and turned around. He couldn’t read Vasquez’s expression in the shadow of the church.  
  
    “Huh?”  
  
    “I have never been responsible for anyone besides myself.” Vasquez walked past him, as if he was going to head into the church but stopped short at the entrance. “Now we carry a town’s fate on our shoulders. If I ran...”  
  
    When he didn’t continue Faraday tried to finish the phrase. “The guilt would be worse?”  
  
    “Indeed.”  
  
    Faraday wasn’t fond of the heavy direction this conversation was taking. He forced himself to smile as he spun on his heel to keep going. “Don’t worry too much. You at least don’t have to look out for me.”  
  
    As he said that his leg hit a stray bench that someone must have left out from the late church ceremony. He dropped his cards as he attempted to catch his balance. Too late. He expected his face to hit the dirt but a hand gripped his shirt and hauled him back onto his feet.  
  
    Vasquez was laughing as he let go, patting his shoulder. “Of course.”  
  
    Faraday ignored the embarrassment running up his neck as he gathered up his cards. At least the white stood out in the shadows. He spared Vasquez a few glances, the vaquero no longer staring at him. There had to be a way to pick back at him.  
  
    “You know, wouldn’t have considered you the irresponsible guy.” He shuffled his cards back into a deck and put them in his pocket. “You’re always complaining when we do something reckless.”  
  
    The vaquero glanced back before turning, walking back down the town road. “I do not.”  
  
    “You got mad at me for smoking.”  
  
    “Next to a bomb, güero.”  
  
    Faraday caught up, leaning in close. “And I’ve seen you chatting with the kids.”  
  
    Vasquez shrugged, clearly pulling away. “They are curious.”  
  
    He rolled his eyes. “You leave behind a family or something?”  
  
    It was meant as a joke, but the silence of not only Vasquez’s snarky comment but his footsteps as well made Faraday freeze. His stance read like he was ready to lash out. Shadows covered his face. Faraday almost reached for his gun on instinct.  
  
    But then Vasquez’s shoulders dropped as he kept moving. “Something like that.”  
  
    Faraday swallowed, remembering to breathe. That was obviously a subject not to be touched. “Sorry, that was out of line, huh?”  
  
    To his relief, Vasquez chuckled. “Oh? An apology? How rare.”  
  
    “Shut up. I can be nice, you know.”  
  
    “I do not. Since we have met you seem... persistent?”  
  
    He seemed to be asking if it was the right word. “Yeah?”  
  
    “Persistent on being a drunken warthog.”  
  
    Faraday’s jaw dropped. The insult would have made him laugh if it wasn’t being directed at him. “Yeah? Well eat horse shit.”  
  
    Vasquez’s laughter only got louder. “Ah, there’s the güero I know.”  
  
    The man was still teasing him. Bastard. Faraday clenched his fists as he stomped ahead, going far past the Saloon. Might as well make a trek to the other end of town.  
  
    Still, Vasquez wasn’t entirely wrong. Chisholm might have just been recruiting him, but buying his horse back wasn’t necessary. Neither was buying dinner all those nights–at a discount, at least, but the townsfolk still had to make a living. Faraday never asked Goody to buy him those drinks, never thanked Vasquez for having his back during that first tussle. It was strange, those shoulders pressed against his. Normally the feeling of anything at his back made him jump, but during that situation it made him feel safe, guarded. Nothing could sneak up on him now.  
  
    Saying he trusted all of these men might be a bit of a stretch, but for the time being he did. Perhaps because he didn’t have an option, but they were the closest thing to friends he had in a while.  
  
    Maybe he could take the chance to try and stop being a constant jackass for a change.  
  
    “Sorry for the way I was acting,” he said as Vasquez finally caught up. His hands found his cards again, only plucking out five of them to fiddle with. “Not sure I know how to behave any other way these days.”  
  
    “I realized that.” Vasquez was still being smug, but his tone was lighter.  
  
    “But we might all die tomorrow, and you all are the closest things I’ve had to friends in a long time.”  
  
    “Really? You seem rather...”  
  
    “Social?”  
      
    “Sí.”  
  
    Faraday shrugged, his nerves relaxing bit by bit. “Yeah, but I don’t trust anyone. It’s not safe.”  
  
    Suddenly Vasquez was in his space, walking very close. It was enough to make Faraday stop and look at him.  
  
    “Do you trust me?”  
  
    That was a heavy question. Faraday squirmed a bit, glancing for an exit but there was a building behind him. “Yeah? I suppose. You did have my back at that shoot out.”  
  
    “What about after?”  
  
    “If we survive?”  
  
    “Sí.”  
  
    “I don’t know.” He put his cards away, glancing at the sky. “Habit tells me to take my horse and run.”  
  
    “Will you?”  
  
    Would he? Where would he go? Wherever the wind took him, his mind offered. That’s what he’d been doing for so long. What would make this any different? Logically that all made sense, but for some reason he had trouble picturing it.  
  
    “I don’t know,” he finally said.  
  
    Vasquez took another step closer. “You expect to die.”  
  
    More heavy questions. Faraday crossed his arms and backed up. “Well, shit, don’t you?”  
  
    Vasquez didn’t answer that directly, but he leaned back, gaze moving down the street. Faraday could almost swear he was looking at something, but there was no one there. He took a minute to feel the gentle evening breeze, smell the air. Not that it was pleasant, not the fresh smell that you’d get out in the wilderness. The air still lingered of ash, sawdust and gunpowder. The only saving grace was that the scent of death had finally vanished.  
  
    Although it’d be back in full swing tomorrow.  
  
    Just thinking about it had him tasting copper in the back of his throat, and he swallowed. He looked back at Vasquez, trying to read his expression.  
  
    “Any regrets?” Faraday asked, not sure he liked the silence.  
  
    The other man shook his head. “Countless, but nothing to do for most of them.”  
  
    “Most of them?”  
  
    “What about you?”  
  
    Tch, dodging the question. Faraday would complain if he wasn’t guilty of the same thing most of the time. He stretched, popping his back, trying to pretend the question didn’t affect him.  
  
    “I guess it’s a shame I couldn’t show off my title,” he said.  
  
    Vasquez tilted his head a bit, that damn quirk he always did when it seemed he was trying to look through Faraday. “Title?”  
  
    “World’s Greatest Lover.” He smirked and pointed at Vasquez as if to mimic a gun. “Like I told that guy. Not that I got to shoot him at the time, maybe tomorrow.”  
  
    Vasquez didn’t respond.  
  
    Faraday cleared his throat and continued. “But, ha, even with all my charm I couldn’t win over any of the ladies in this town. Shame, don’t know what they’re missing.”  
  
    Now Vasquez was smiling, a kind of smile Faraday had never seen before. “And what’s that, güero?”  
  
    Heat rushed up his neck and to his cheeks and he found himself backing up again. “Uh, hah, come on, you know.”  
  
    The vaquero stepped forward. “I don’t. Would you show me?”  
  
    And if that didn’t make Faraday’s thoughts screech to a halt.  
  
    What? What did he say? He wasn’t suggesting that seriously, was he? Faraday must be reading it wrong. “I, what? Show you what?”  
  
    “That you’re the World’s Greatest Lover.”  
  
    Why was his face so hot? Why wasn’t the breeze cooling him down? He almost felt dizzy and even the support of the wall at his back didn’t feel steady. “I... huh. Vas are you drunk?” That was it, right? The vaquero must have been drinking something before coming outside.  
  
    “You called me Vas again.” God damn it, why was he smirking like that? Then it dropped ever so slightly as he studied Faraday’s expression and he took a step back. “And no, I am not.”  
  
    Faraday had trouble believing that. “You’re seriously asking me if I want to sleep with you?”  
  
    The vaquero shrugged. “We could be dead tomorrow.”  
  
    Something about that left a bitter taste in his mouth and he rolled his eyes. “So I’m just your last option, huh?”  
  
    Vasquez’s gaze was fixed on him. “As aggravating as you are, the thought has been on my mind for the past week.”  
  
    Wait, what? Faraday tried to run over the events of the week. The nicknames, Vasquez poking and teasing him during construction, leaning on him far too much when they were drinking. The snappy comments, the even snappier comebacks, suddenly they had a very different context.  
  
    No, this couldn’t be real.  
  
    “I must have passed out during the walk.” Faraday ran a hand through his hair, wishing he’d brought his hat with him. Then it’d be easier to hide his face.  
  
    Vasquez stepped over, crowding in his space again. Faraday had no time to move before the vaquero’s hand pressed against the wall. Nowhere to run now.  
  
    “Would you consider this a dream or a nightmare?”  
  
    Faraday’s nerves were eating him alive, but he refused to show it as he met Vasquez’s stare. “Never thought about it.”  
  
    “I am asking you to now.”  
  
    His breathing stuttered. Suddenly his instincts were telling him to move forward, close the gap, and where the hell was that coming from? “I’m too sober for this.”  
  
    Vasquez rolled his eyes and pulled away. “Or too afraid.”  
  
    Faraday glared. “Hey! I said nothing of the sort.”  
  
    “If it does not interest you then say so.” Vasquez kept moving away and for some reason Faraday wanted to chase him. “Otherwise you should drop your... disguise for a change. Your last night alive is no time for hesitations.”  
  
    “You say that like it’s so easy.” Faraday growled. “Like you’re not scared yourself.”  
  
    That made Vasquez pause, but his stare wasn’t any less cold. “I am.”  
  
    “Yeah, well, any sane person would be scared of getting shot.”  
  
    “I am more frightened of you getting shot.”  
  
    His anger fizzled out once more. Just how was a person like Vasquez so good at snuffing it out? “Huh?”  
  
    The vaquero crossed his arms. “Like you, I have not had friends in a while either, güero. You already understand my fear, even if you will not admit it.”  
  
    “I...” No, he probably wouldn’t admit it. The thought of dying wasn’t appealing, but it wasn’t like he didn’t face that fear on a daily basis. Gambling with his life whenever he’d cheat on a card game with dangerous people was one thing. Now all of them were going to face an army and there was no telling who would make it to the other side. The thought of surviving till tomorrow evening and having to bury the few friends he made was too much. Made him more terrified than his nightmares ever did.  
  
    “Should I be unable to keep you alive,” Vasquez continued, toeing at the ground. “I do not wish to part ways on...”  
  
    He was hesitating with words again. Faraday offered, “Ill terms?”  
  
    “Sí.”  
  
    “But how’s that translate to sleeping with me?”  
  
    Vasquez shrugged, that smirk returning to his face. “Someone gloats about it, you become curious. Perhaps you are just talk.”  
  
    Oh he did not just say that. Faraday stormed over to him, trying to make himself as tall as possible. “Like hell I am.”  
  
    Vasquez wasn’t intimidated in the slightest, his grin only getting wider. “Then prove it.”  
  
    It was a trap. It was such a trap. Faraday could see it was a trap. Vasquez was pushing his buttons, finding a different way to convince him to go with this crazy idea. The worst part about all of it was that it was working. Right now he had two options, kiss the man and prove it or walk away and possibly die without ever living up to his title.  
  
    They could all die tomorrow.  
  
    Was Faraday really going to spend his last night being a coward?  
  
    He studied Vasquez’s face, that infuriating grin that was somehow endearing at the same time.  
  
    The shadows suited him.  
  
    Faraday grabbed Vasquez’s collar and pulled him into a rough kiss.  
  
    It was an impulse. Part of him expected it to end, for one of them to back out. They didn’t.  
  
    On Faraday’s part, he wasn’t about to admit how much he loved the lingering flavor of Vasquez’s cigar, the man’s beard brushing against his skin. Faraday immediately tilted his head just to get more of that sensation.  
  
    Not like he hadn’t kissed a man before. Sometimes you get drunk, you get bad ideas, but all of those times were hazy memories at best.  
  
    No chance of alcohol making him forget this one, giving him an excuse to fall back on. Part of him wasn’t sure he’d want to as Vasquez gripped his waist and began to push him back. Faraday was annoyed at first, putting a hand behind the man’s neck to indicate he wasn’t going anywhere when he felt his back press against the wall of a building.  
  
    Oh.  
  
    Normally he’d protest. Faraday was a man built to be on top. That was the thought he was going to vocalize until Vasquez kissed him again. Somehow a bite on the lip and a thumb slipping under his shirt was all it took to make his thoughts go quiet.  
  
    Fine, Vasquez could pin him to a wall, for now.  
  
    Faraday ran his hand through Vasquez’s hair, feeling the texture of the curls. His lips were pinched under the pressure but that only drew out a moan on his end. Vasquez took that and pressed him harder against the wall. His head bumped against the wood, didn’t care. He was too focused on one of Vasquez’s legs sliding between his thighs.  
  
    Faraday tried to bite back, literally, nipping on the man’s lip. That drew a growl out of him. Vasquez’s hand that was already sliding up Faraday’s shirt moved straight to his chest. He pushed so hard Faraday tilted his head back when he gasped.  
  
    Vasquez took the chance to kiss his throat, trail down his neck. Faraday tightened his grip in the man’s hair, torn between pulling him away and begging him not to stop.  
  
    The latter won out.  
  
    “Shit, Vas...” He could finally catch his breath now that their mouths weren’t connected.  
  
    Vasquez chuckled against his collar bone. “You called me that again.”  
  
    “You want me to stop?” Faraday grumbled.  
  
    “No, I rather like it, güero.”  
  
    Faraday was about to ask once again what that meant. It slipped into a sharp gasp when Vasquez bit the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Rough nails dug into the hair on his chest. The leg between his was getting dangerously close.  
  
    He failed to muffle the moan that came from his throat. The sound made Vasquez pause, chuckle, and then laugh.  
  
    Faraday frowned, his cheeks burning. “Quit laughing.”  
  
    “My apologies.” Vasquez didn’t stop. “But I did not realize you could make those sounds.” He leaned in close, letting their lips brush together, reminding Faraday how sensitive they were. “Makes me curious of what other kinds you can make.”  
  
    “Hah,” Faraday bluffed, like he wasn’t tempted to grind down on Vasquez’s leg. “You’d have to find the right tricks first.”  
  
    Vasquez smiled at him, that devilish smirk. His hand slowly trailed down Faraday’s chest as he kissed the corner of his mouth. “Time. I only need time, güero.”  
  
    Since when did that nickname start sounding sweet and smokey like molasses? He thought he could listen to this man whisper it in his ear for hours, then stopped that thought short.  
  
    “Or maybe you need to hurry up.” Faraday wiggled under his grip.  
  
    “Impatient.”  
  
    “We could die tomorrow.”  
  
    Vasquez chuckled again, kisses trailing across his cheek to his ear. “Fine, but it’s not an ideal spot out here.” Oh god, there was the whisper. “Perhaps we should move this to one of our rooms, güero.”  
  
    Faraday would never admit that sound made him melt, but Vasquez must have noticed as the hand on his stomach grew sturdier.  
  
    “Yours or mine?” The question came out as more of a whimper.  
  
    “As I recall, you said your bed was rather uncomfortable.”  
  
    That got him to laugh, easing his nerves a bit. “Yeah, guess I did say that. Yours it is.”  
  
    Vasquez stepped back and Faraday followed, pulling him into another kiss. It made walking back to the Saloon difficult, and who knew if someone might catch them as they fumbled through the door, but Faraday didn’t give a damn.  
  
    They could be dead tomorrow, and he had a title to prove.  
  
    Though–judging by the way it felt when one of Vasquez’s kisses turned soft and he whispered gentle Spanish in his ear–Faraday thought he might lose it.  
  
    Somehow that didn’t bother him in the slightest.


	2. Drew the Ace of Spades Instead

    Vasquez had been in many gun fights. A part of this felt no different than before, despite the distant thundering of hooves and explosions. He kept watch outside of the church, his nerves staying cool and level.   
  
    That all changed when Faraday darted out, already having set off the first explosion.   
  
    The reality of the situation hit his core when the dynamite shook the ground. Faraday was in danger. They were all in danger. An army was fast approaching the town. If he didn’t keep his wits about him and missed a shot, who knew what it would cost him.   
  
    Vasquez spent the whole time while they were waiting just clinging to his memory. Hanging onto last night, the next morning, Faraday still curled up in his arms. They had both managed to sleep without a single nightmare.   
  
    Vasquez so desperately wanted that to continue. He had to live. Faraday had to live.  
  
    Easier said than done. He caught a glimpse of the man’s wild smile as the shed blew up. Of course he was disaster prone. Vasquez tried not to focus too hard, shooting down any of the men who managed to escape the explosion. They were still swarming in. They would probably keep doing so. Faraday had to get to cover.   
  
    But there he was, still shooting down men. Vasquez moved to the door of the church. He spotted Billy running over, offering assistance by shooting down one of his pursuers.   
  
    “Hurry, güero!” Vasquez shouted. Faraday finally turned away to get a glimpse at the area around him. Bogue’s men had come around the sides, now swarming up the other end of the town. The snipers were taking out more than Vasquez thought they would, but it wasn’t enough.  
  
    Billy ran past Faraday, giving him a nudge. Faraday didn’t turn, clearly looking for something.  
  
    “Ándale!” Vasquez shouted again. Faraday needed to get out of the open before–  
  
     _Bang!_  
  
    Vasquez didn’t even see the shooter at first. He just saw Faraday flinch, hand on his side, almost dropping to the ground.   
  
    “Güero?” He glanced over to the culprit. The man Faraday had taunted over a week ago. Vasquez recognized that smug expression.  
  
    He let his anger override his concern. Without a second thought he stomped down the church steps and fired a shot.   
  
    The man hadn’t even noticed him, shock on his face as he stumbled back from the bullet to his shoulder. Vasquez could feel Faraday running behind him, toward cover. Thank the Lord for that.   
  
    But Vasquez wasn’t done, far from it. He held up his other gun and fired another shot.  
  
    “ _Chingado tu madre, cabron._ ” He cursed, firing another round, and another. The man just kept staring at him, wide eyed. Was he already dead? Maybe, but he hadn’t hit the ground yet.   
  
    Vasquez fired one more bullet. The man stumbled back, his foot hitting the bottom end of a coffin. His body slammed into it, splintering the wood. Vasquez considered shooting him again, but that would be a waste of ammo by this point.   
  
    “You okay, güero?” he called toward the church. He scanned the surroundings as he moved closer to it.  
  
    “So far so good,” Joshua replied.  
  
    Vasquez swallowed. That wasn’t good. Sure it meant Faraday was alive now, but if he didn’t get that injury patched up it wouldn’t last.  
  
    Sadly, there wasn’t any time for that. There were too many enemies to take care of first. Men kept swarming into the town. The sound of hooves against dirt and gunshots kept echoing down the street. Vasquez swiftly reloaded his revolver while Billy gave him cover. The men in the church were still aiming out the windows, trying to keep people from entering the town.   
  
    Vasquez knew from the start there would be an army, but only now was it getting overwhelming. He felt a bullet whiz past his cheek. Another hit the ground next to his feet. He supposed he was glad most of these men weren’t as good of a shot as he expected.   
  
    “I’m going,” Joshua’s voice shouted from the church. Vasquez cursed, wanting to tell him to stay behind cover but it was too late. The man ran through the door, hand over his injury as he took out two men.   
  
    Vasquez had no choice but to cover him, grateful that Billy did as well.   
  
    A man slipped past him. Vasquez turned to shoot, but Joshua got him first. Their gazes met as Faraday put his gun away and dove for the now deceased man’s rifle.   
  
    Vasquez resisted the urge to move next to him. “Keep shooting, güerito!” He spun back towards the crowd. More men were flooding in, possibly too many. Faraday could only fire a rifle so fast and there was no telling how much ammo was left. This was getting too close for comfort. Vasquez’s instincts told him to duck back in the church but he refused while Faraday was still recklessly running around out here.  
  
    He wouldn’t let Joshua die. Not while he was nearby to do something about it.   
  
    A wild cry rang through the town. Vasquez thought he recognized it, but the identity of the person was confirmed by the grin on Billy’s face.  
  
    Goodnight’s horse leapt clean over the obstacles they built. Despite how fast his horse moved his aim was true, taking out three men in the street.  
  
    Vasquez was about to sing praises unto God, but then Goodnight shouted something else.  
  
    “They have the Devil’s Breath! They’ve got a goddamn Gatling gun!”  
  
    His heart caught in his throat. He tried to look out to where some of the men were still on the hill, but the church made it too hard to see.   
  
    Goodnight was still shouting warnings as his horse charged back toward the church. Vasquez spun around and ran toward the building, pushing Faraday along as well.   
  
    He could hear the bullets when they rained down on the town. Wood splintered, dust flew into the air, some of the bullets ricocheted. Any shouts of pain from the men outside were quickly silenced. Where was Jack? Or Sam? Vasquez didn’t have the option of looking for them as he tried to get down.  
  
    Too late. Bullets burst through the wooden walls of the damaged church. Two men hit the ground. Pain burst through Vasquez’s arm and he collapsed against the sacks they were using to pad the wood around the windows. His hand flew over the injury, sharp and burning. He grit his teeth and forced himself to roll over, curling up.   
  
    It took another thirty seconds for the bullets to stop. Vasquez’s heart was racing, blood pounding in his ears. It made his injury hurt even worse, but he ignored it for now.   
  
    Faraday, where was Faraday?  
  
    He tilted his head up to look around. Plenty of men were still standing for the time being.  
  
    “They’re reloading, stay down,” Goodnight warned, heading for the tower.   
  
    Stay down? They couldn’t just sit here and wait for more. They had to find a way around it.   
  
    “Stay down.” Billy spoke up next. Vasquez looked to see he was talking to Faraday who was pushing himself up, despite the fact the wound in his side was still bleeding.   
  
    “The children,” Joshua cursed.   
  
    Vasquez tried to get up himself, tried to call after him, but it was too late. Faraday ran out the door. Giving chase wasn’t an option due to the pain in his arm. He had to stop the bleeding.   
  
     _He’ll be fine,_ he chanted in his mind over and over again as he tugged off the bandanna on his neck. Billy was covering him at least. _We’ll make it through this. We will._  
  
    Goodnight and Billy climbed up the bell tower. Having the two of them in a sniping position would help, but it wouldn’t be a solution to the Gatling gun. Vasquez tightened the  bandanna over his bullet wound as he peeked out of the window. From here he could see it, the wagon it was perched on. It looked so far away. How could they reach that without being torn to shreds?   
  
    Didn’t matter right now. There were still enemies to deal with. Vasquez bit back the pain as he returned to shooting them down. If Faraday went to help the children escape they needed as much cover as they could provide. The window of silence wouldn’t last.   
  
    Vasquez still hadn’t seen Jack, or Sam. Were they safe? What about Emma? She’d been up on the balcony when that gun went off. Red Harvest also liked to perch on top of buildings. Did he find cover?  
  
    He couldn’t keep fretting about this. Not until their enemies were taken down. It was nothing more than a distraction.   
  
    Thankfully it seemed the gatling gun took out as many of Bogue’s men as it did theirs. The ones that were left were being taken out quickly with Billy and Goodnight up top.   
  
    Then it came again, too soon. One bullet already blasted it’s way through the church and Vasquez dropped to the ground. He used the bags of hay for additional cover, checking his gun. Almost out of ammo. He didn’t have any on him either.   
  
    But he didn’t dare move right now as the bullets kept flying. At least most of them were staying away from the church this time. The other men were cowering on the floor. One of them whimpered. Vasquez couldn’t fault him for it.   
  
    When it went quiet again he peeked out the window. There were still a handful of men on horseback.   
  
    He held his hand out and gestured. “Quick, ammo.”  
  
    “This is all we’ve got.” A gentleman gave him a handful of bullets. Not enough, not even close to enough, but he didn’t have an option.   
  
    He quickly loaded up, firing out of the window at two more men on horseback. It was all he could manage before the pain in his arm became overwhelming and he slumped back down.   
  
    Vasquez grit his teeth. He couldn’t let something this small hold him back. He had to keep fighting. He had to keep everyone safe.   
  
    Faraday’s wild shout echoed down the street. Vasquez shot up off the floor and darted over to the opposite window. He could see Sam and Faraday running out of their cover, firing at the men coming their way.   
  
    Joshua ran for his horse while Sam kept covering him. Vasquez assumed Billy and Goodnight were doing the same.  
  
    Just what was he doing anyways? Where did he plan to go?  
  
    Vasquez glanced back to the other window, where the Gatling gun sat on the hill.  
  
    No, he wasn’t, was he? That was suicide for sure. Even if they managed to take out all of his perusers from the town there’d still be all the men on the hill that they couldn’t reach. Faraday wouldn’t make it.   
  
    Then again, he probably knew that.   
  
   _“So far, so good.”_  
  
    Vasquez grit his teeth again and swallowed the lump in his throat. He sent a quick prayer to the Lord as he aimed his gun out the window.  
  
    “Ándale, güero!” he shouted, taking out two men. Faraday climbed up on his horse and took off. More men sped past, still on their mounts. Vasquez managed to take out one more, but by then he was out of bullets.   
  
    He dashed over to the other side to look out the window. Billy and Goodnight were still on the rest of the horse riders. Vasquez could hear their rifles going off.   
  
    “Don’t stop.” Vasquez wasn’t sure who he was talking to. By now all the men had left the town, giving chase to Faraday. One by one they dropped whenever Goodnight or Billy would land a shot. Honestly, there was no one better to provide cover at such a distance.  
  
    Vasquez turned to the few men left still standing in the church. “Go.”  
  
    “Pardon?” one of them asked.  
  
    “Go, get out of here and hide. We’re out of ammo. If Faraday does not make it then... go.”   
  
    He didn’t have to tell them twice. The man gathered up their empty rifles and ran for the door. A couple of them stopped on the road to help injured men find a safer place to wait. No doubt that Gatling gun would go off again before Faraday reached it.   
  
    As if on cue, Vasquez heard the bullets hit the ground outside. He ducked down but kept peeking out the window, watching Faraday. He was still riding strong. Just one man left on his tail.   
  
    “Keep going, Joshua,” Vasquez whispered. A bullet chipped the wood and he ducked down farther. He prayed harder, hoping that somehow it was reaching some higher power.  
  
    He wanted to live. He wanted Joshua to live. He wanted them both to ride out of this town, going wherever they pleased until they found somewhere else to stay.   
  
    He wanted to wake up the next morning holding the man in his arms, listening to his gentle snoring.   
  
    The splintering of wood shook him out of his thoughts. He could hear the bullets climbing up the steeple of the church. A rifle went off one last time. Goodnight was cheering.   
  
    It was violently cut off. The bell rung out as bullets hit the thick metal. Vasquez held his breath, unable to move.   
  
    The wood up above cracked. Something–no someone–hit the roof and tumbled down. There was a thud on the dirt outside the church.  
  
    The bullets went quiet. Vasquez still couldn’t breath. His chest felt so tight. He forced himself up and he ran over to the steeple, gripping the rope for support.   
  
    “Goodnight?” he shouted. “Billy?”   
  
    No response.   
  
    Vasquez grit his teeth. He couldn’t cry, not yet. Faraday, where was Faraday?  
  
    He darted back to the window, leaning as far out as possible to see what was going on. Something was wrong. Faraday wasn’t riding like he usually did.  
  
    A gunshot. Faraday suddenly fell back, tumbling off his horse.   
  
    “No!” Vasquez didn’t think as he ran out of the church. He whistled for his horse. The white mare trotted out from behind one of the buildings. This was dangerous, he knew that, but he couldn’t stand here and do nothing.   
  
    But he hesitated when he got a view on the hill again. Faraday was up, he was walking–sort of. Another gunshot. Vasquez wondered if the bullet hit his own chest as he watched the man fall to his knees.   
  
    No, he couldn’t keep hesitating, even with Bogue still out there. Maybe if he took a longer route he’d go unnoticed. He spurred his horse to run, aiming to go through the mining camps. That should provide enough cover, right?   
  
    He couldn’t clearly see what was going on. Where did Faraday go? He wasn’t dead, right? No, no, that wouldn’t happen. Not when he was that close, Faraday wouldn’t–  
  
    The explosion shocked him as well as his horse. She reared up and he lost his grip, hitting the ground. The air was knocked out of his lungs and he spat up dirt. He forced himself up, still seeing the cloud of dirt hover where the wagon had been.  
  
    His lungs still weren’t working. His legs shook as he got to his feet.  
  
    No. Faraday didn’t.  
  
    Vasquez broke into a sprint.  
  
  _“Güero, why do you have that?” Vasquez pointed to the stick of dynamite as they finished setting things up before the sun came out._  
  
 _“Just in case, you know? It’s my trump card.”_  
  
 _“If someone shoots that you could explode.”_  
  
 _“Then won’t they get a nasty surprise?” Faraday just cackled._   
  
    Vasquez kept running. His lungs burned. The pain in his arm crept up to his shoulder.   
  
_“Relax Vas, won’t use it unless absolutely necessary. You have my word.”_  
  
 _“So you’ll try to stay alive?” Vasquez grabbed Faraday’s hips and tugged him closer._  
  
 _“If you’ll try to do the same.”_  
  
 _“Sí, mi corazón.”_  
  
 _“What’s that one mean?”_  
  
 _“If you live, I’ll tell you.”_   
  
    Vasquez approached the explosion site. Splintered wood was scattered everywhere. The ground was scorched. Dust still hung in the air and made his eyes burn. He wasn’t unaware of the tattered remains of clothes and leather. A gun lay nearby.   
  
    He kept going. If Faraday was still in one piece there was a chance he’d be alive. He forced himself to ignore what he knew were scattered limbs and fingers. He didn’t have the stomach right now.  
  
    “Joshua?” he called out. He kept walking. Faraday must have thrown it out of range. He must have. He must–  
  
    His foot almost slipped on something in the dirt. He glanced down to see a handful of playing cards. Most of them were burnt, pieces missing, but a few still sat solid in the grass splattered in blood.  
  
    Vasquez swallowed as he reached down to pick them up. The one on top was a two of hearts.   
  
    He couldn’t stay on his feet. His knees hit the ground as he clutched the cards far too tight. This couldn’t be happening. It was another nightmare. Any minute now Faraday would wander over with half his hat scorched and make a joke.   
  
    But logic told him to stop lying to himself. How many bullets did Joshua take? Even if the explosion hadn’t killed him he wouldn’t have lasted.  
      
    But he didn’t want to believe that.   
  
    “Güero, please,” he whispered to the air. “Come back to me, please.”   
  
    There was no response. He could hear the faint sounds of gunfire in the town. Had Bogue finally gone down there? Sam was still there, right?   
  
    Vasquez’s instincts tried to kick in, told him to run, but no way in hell was he doing that now. If they lost this fight then he was going to die with the rest of them.   
  
    The breath on his neck startled him. Vasquez turned expecting his own horse only to see Jack. The creature stared at him, as if asking where his rider had gone. It was a miracle he wasn’t injured from all the gunfire.   
  
    Vasquez was slow to reach out. He knew the horse could be temperamental. He would often neigh and huff if anyone other than Joshua came near him. For now it stayed silent, watching, not flinching when Vasquez put a hand on its nose.   
  
    He stroked its muzzle for a few moments. The tears from earlier were threatening again as the silence around him felt louder and louder.   
  
    He stood. The horse followed him, still watching him. He failed to hold back his sob. He meant to cling to the reigns but instead found himself hugging the stallion, hiding his face in its mane.  
  
    It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. How dare Sam drag him into this adventure, introduce him to all these men only so Vasquez could lose them a week later.   
  
    It wasn’t fair.   
  
    He couldn’t stay here.  
  
    Vasquez pocketed the cards. He whistled for his horse again, hoping she wasn’t far. She trotted out from the tents, coming to meet him.  
  
    He climbed on before securing his grip on Jack’s reigns. The stallion followed him without complaint. For now he clung to the backside of town, still unsure where Bogue was or the status of his men.  
  
    “Vasquez.”  
  
    He almost jumped. Red Harvest emerged from behind one of the buildings on his own horse, towing one along. Vasquez quickly recognized Jack Horne.   
  
    He met Red Harvest’s gaze, silently asking the question he didn’t have the nerve to ask. The young man nodded at him.   
  
    “Faraday?” he asked in return.  
  
    Vasquez tried to nod but another sob escaped his throat. He grit his teeth and pressed his palm against his eye. There wasn’t any time for this.   
  
    Red Harvest still understood, nodding again. Then he gestured Vasquez to follow as they both headed into town. Vasquez wasn’t sure how the kid did it. He was younger than all of them wasn’t he? Then again, he didn’t have the right to judge. None of them did.   
  
    Vasquez slowly became aware of the townspeople beginning to fill the streets. Had they won? Was Bogue dead? That had to be what was going on.  
  
    It took some fear off his shoulders, but not enough. The toll of the battle was still weighing on him and he knew the extent of it still hadn’t hit him.   
  
    They rode up the street, some people thanking them, but Vasquez wasn’t listening. He kept his gaze fixed on Sam who stood outside of the church. Emma was in the doorway, silently staring at something.   
  
    Sam’s gaze darted to Jack, then Red Harvest, and then to Vasquez.  
  
    “Faraday?”  
  
    He hated it. He hated the man’s name being asked like a question.   
  
    But Vasquez didn’t show his anger or his grief this time. He just shook his head, not able to keep looking Sam in the eye.   
  
    There had been seven, now they were down to three.  
  
    What would even happen after this? Surely they’d go their separate ways. Vasquez wasn’t sure if he could deal with being on his own.   
  
    So he followed Sam as the man walked to his horse after he spoke to the preacher. He spotted Teddy out of the corner of his eye and without much thought held out the reigns.  
  
    The young man looked shocked, glancing him up and down.  
  
    “Take care of Jack, Teddy,” was all Vasquez said. He couldn’t take the horse with him. They wouldn’t be able to ride fast enough. And what would he do if he did, sell it? No, that horse belonged to Faraday. It deserved to stay in the town where he rested.   
  
    Teddy took the reins, and Vasquez kept following. The townspeople kept thanking them, nothing but joy and relief behind their voices. Vasquez knew they were sincere, but right now his chest hurt too much to respond.   
  
    He’d lost four of his friends. He’d lost the man he’d fallen in love with. He couldn’t protect any of them.   
  
    He let his brain run on autopilot. He kept following Sam. Perhaps at some point the man would make them stop, ask what Vasquez was doing, and he’d tell Sam the same thing he did the night before the battle.  
  
    He had nowhere else to go.  
  
    His home was gone.  
  
    Soon to be buried beneath Rose Creek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest in absolute pieces Joshua u_u 
> 
> (And sorry, again, aha)


End file.
